I have quite an elitist taste in literature (and arts in general, and maybe just life in general). This is not a problem: everybody likes different things and I don’t have to be ashamed of the fact that I like these things. I’m not bothering anyone.

As some of my readers might know, I love nineteenth-century French literature. So when Patricia Worth contacted me if I wanted to review her new translation of George Sand’s Spiridion, I was very excited. I have wanted to read something by Sand for quite some while now.